


Genmaicha

by butterofsalmon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, Business AU, Dominant Qui-Gon Jinn, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I am obsessed with the idea of Sith!Qui-Gon it physically hurts me, If you guys haven't read LittleLynn's Broken Out (Broken In), Modern AU, POV Alternating, Power Dynamics, Sith AU, So here we are, okay before you judge me, sugar AU, you have to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterofsalmon/pseuds/butterofsalmon
Summary: Freshly graduated from university, you dive headfirst into a junior position at Coruscant Times, harbouring dreams of becoming a great journalist. Friends are made, challenges arise, but one challenge presents itself unexpectedly: along the way, you caught the attention of a very important, and very dangerous man. Qui-Gon Jinn.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Reader, Sith!Qui-Gon Jinn/Reader, slight Obi-Wan/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT LISTEN HERE
> 
> I definitely owe a few people some prompts they've sent me on Tumblr, but I've had this fic brewing in my head for MONTHS now, especially after I read LittleLynn's Broken In (Broken Out). Their rendition of Sith!Qui-Gon makes my heart soar.... What can I say, I'm obsessed. If you're also interested in checking out Orientalld's interpretation of Sith!Qui-Gon, please consider becoming a patron of hers on Patreon. For only $3 a month, you can get your pair of eyeballs on some beautiful, tattooed Sith!Qui art for some reference while you read this fic. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent Office AU fic. Please let me know what you think in the comments!

The train was always going to be crowded at this time of the morning, you could already tell. There were people packed side by side like sardines, business people and commoners alike. However, you’d already made up your mind that you wouldn't be deterred by crowds, since this was cheaper than driving everyday, especially when you factored in things like Uber fees and tolls.

The one thing you did mind about having to take the train everyday was how much standing you were going to have to do. You got on at one of the latest stops and by that time all the seats were taken. There might be times when chivalrous young men would offer their seats to you, but you would always end up giving it to some old lady. It's just how you were raised. Besides, it's good manners, right?

So, you decided to stick it out and ride the train, six days a week for half an hour in pinching heels on the way to and from Coruscant Times, your new place of employment. It was the biggest company in the country with several branches into various fields of work, so uncomfortable trains rides were worth it, no matter how crowded they were.

Gripping the pole you were leaning against, you sighed nervously. Here you were, freshly graduated and about to join the business world. Getting hired at Coruscant Times was no small feat, and you were proud of yourself for accomplishing it. People from all different walks of life dreamed of having the comfortable, powerful life of a head at Coruscant Times, and you were no different. However, you weren’t really after one of the top positions. It took years to get there, and only the best were chosen from hundreds of other hopefuls. No, all you wanted was a secure profession earned through hard work and talent.

 _'Now stopping at Dangai Station. Please watch your step as you depart, and have a nice day.'_ The crackled sound of the announcement snapped you out of your inner thoughts. This was your stop, the first of many to come. Or so you hoped.

Stepping off the train, you composed yourself into what you hoped was a business-woman like stature and began to walk. You had practiced walking in heels for days, and you weren’t going to embarrass yourself by tripping on your first day.

Slipping in between old men chatting to each other over newspapers and stock reports, you made your way towards the stairs that led to the main buildings of the company. You could see them peeking over the tops of cherry blossom and maple trees; huge, modern buildings that shone in the early morning sun like beacons. This was your new life, and your eyes drunk in the sights. The cobblestone path you walked on was free of any sort of debris, the hedges and trees were shapely and beautifully well-managed. And all around you stood important men and women in expensive suits and pencil skirts, talking and discussing the going-ons of the world.

You were so lost in admiration that you didn't hear the voice calling your name until it was right behind you.

Turning suddenly, you bumped into the chest of the young man calling your name. "Oh, Anakin! It's you!"

Anakin Skywalker, your friend and upperclassman at your university smiled at you with calm honey eyes. "It's so great to see you. You work here now?" Anakin asked when he noticed your smart attire and the thin briefcase you held.

"Yes. I was accepted into the editorial and publishing department in the Republic division," You said excitedly. "It's my first day."

Anakin grinned. "That's great! I was actually just on my way over to the Republic building. I can show you around if you'd like." He straightened his tie, and you admired how comfortable and assured he looked. Back at the university, he had often spoken of his dream to one day work at Coruscant Times, something you both had in common. This shared dream led to you to becoming friends despite the two-year age difference. You had lost contact after Anakin had graduated, and you were glad he had accomplished his dream.

"That'd be great," you said, smiling softly. You walked along side your friend, glad you had found someone to show you around. "So, where do you work Anakin?"

"In the Empire division, under Sheev Palpatine. He's head of recruitment and training over there, and I'm directly under him," Anakin replied. "It's a hard job, but I don't mind. I look up to Sheev, and I wouldn't trade my position for any other."

 _'I've heard of him,'_ you thought to yourself. _'He's supposed to be pretty extreme in his methods...'_ However, if Anakin liked him then maybe you’d have to change your perception of him. Sighing, you raised your face to the sky. It was still morning, and the sun was slowly making its way to its peak. Spring or not, it was going to be a warm day.

"Why so quiet? Although I guess I can't really say anything... you've always been that way," Anakin turned, his gentle eyes meeting yours. "I always liked that about you. You make yourself heard through actions, not by words."

Laughing quietly, you scratched the side of your nose in embarrassment. "You flatter me, Anakin. I could say the same about you. You were always the good student, and now you work in training and recruitment. I always thought you'd end up research or something.

Anakin shook his head. "No, I've no patience for things like that. I prefer immediate results, and in my field that's exactly what we aim for. There's no room for trial and error there."

"Here we are," Anakin announced, leading you up the marble stairs into the Republic division. The doors were huge, wooden with large windows set within them. They stood open in the spring air, allowing people to walk through freely. Situated on either side were men and women in uniforms and badges. At their sides were weapons of the highest caliber, and their faces were stern and watchful. Your gaze lingered on them before Anakin tugged on your arm, leading you into the great foyer of the Republic division.  
  
It was huge, decorated with a taste for traditional Asian décor. The wooden floor gleamed like it was brand new, and bamboo and Chinese maples grew in large pots situated around the great room. Statues and wall scrolls decorated the walls, along with benches and tables places in strategic locations much like stones are placed within a zen garden.

Looking up, you could see straight up to the glass top of the building fourteen stories up, the blue sky a distant splash of color. The building was slightly oval in shape, and each floor wrapped around. There were stairs to your left and right, leading up to the second floor.

"Come on," Anakin called, walking over to one of the huge elevators. "The editorial department is on the ninth floor." Pushing the call button, they waited for the elevator to arrive.

"Where are you going?" You asked as the elevator arrived with a quiet 'ding'. You stepped inside, and Anakin pushed the buttons for the ninth and eleventh floors.

"Up to the eleventh floor. I have something to pick up." You nodded, and began to straighten your hair and outfit. You had chosen a nice neutral gray and blue skirt and a simple silk blouse for your first day, and had curled hair into gentle ringlets. You had wanted to appear professional, but not old.

The floors sped by out the glass of the elevator. You brushed your hands against your skirt nervously, and bit your lower lip. It was habit you were trying to get rid of; it always made your lips chap and bleed.

The elevator began to slow. "Here you are," Anakin smiled again, brushing his dirty-blonde hair out of his eyes. "We work in different buildings so we probably won't see much of each other. Other than outside of work, that is," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Speaking of that, would you like to go get something to eat after work? Get caught up and all that?"

You smiled. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun." Inside, you were very excited. You had missed your friend.

Anakin grinned. "That's great. I'll wait for you outside at around six. See you then," he waved to you as the elevator doors opened to the ninth floor. You waved, stepped out, and immediately was pushed to the side by people rushing past with arms full of paper and office supplies.

"Where is that manuscript? Goddammit, if Ahsoka forgot to turn it in again, I'm going to march down to the fourth floor and kick her ass," a booming voice sounded from behind a stack of paper on a filing cabinet.

"It's right here, Kit, keep your pants on," a woman's voice answered in an annoyed voice. "Go make yourself useful instead of breathing down the necks of people who are actually _working_."

You swallowed nervously and tightened your grip on your briefcase. All around you, people were typing on computers, printing, faxing, scanning and throwing papers everywhere. It was pure chaos.

 _'What have I gotten myself into?'_ You asked yourself as you narrowly dodged being mowed down by a short man with a smoking printer in his arms. 'Come back, Anakin! I think you dropped me off on the wrong floor!'  
  
You turned a corner and were met with the sight of a handsome, bearded man with sun kissed brown hair running from desk to desk, grabbing papers and marking them with a red pen. The whir of electronics and the shuffling of papers drowned out every other sound.

"Uh, excuse me..." you called out, but no one noticed. The man kept running, the other employees kept typing, and you were getting more and more frustrated. This _wasn't_ what you were expecting.

"Hey...hey...HEY!" You yelled, and immediately regretted it. Everyone stopped to look at you, and you suddenly felt very small. It wasn't like you to yell like that, but you were getting nowhere otherwise.

"Uh... can anyone tell me where I can find the head of the editorial and publishing department?" You asked quickly. Everyone stared at you, until the man with the beard and red pen stepped forward.

"Yeah, what do you want? We're kind of busy, in case you haven't noticed," he said in his crisp, exasperated accent.

Clearing your throat, you held out your hand. "I'm (F/N) (L/N). I work here now, and was told to come to you."

Once your name was mentioned, his eyes widened. "You're the new girl? That's great! We need another pair of hands around here... especially when the people who already work here _DON'T DO THEIR JOBS RIGHT_!" He turned and shouted at the people behind him in desks who jumped and began to work again. You cocked an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi," the man said, shaking your hand, "Head of the Editorial and Publishing Department at Coruscant Times." He began to walk away, motioning for you to follow. He led you through a maze of desks, explaining things to you the entire way.

"You've come at a hectic time. It's Hell Week- all our manuscripts and drafts for our spring clients are due. We've got to get them proof-read, printed, signed and stamped by the big guys before they can be sent out. We publish everything, from children's books to safety manuals for microwaves," Obi-Wan explained. You nodded; nearly every printed thing in the country had the ‘Coruscant Times’ stamp on it. “And, well… We have _them_ to deal with, but I’ll spare you the stress for now.”

Trusting his judgement, you didn’t press for more information about his ambiguity. Obi-Wan stepped over an upturned paper-shredder and opened the door to a spacious office in the back. It had a large window that made up the entire back wall, and several computers and various other machines lined the walls. A large desk was in front of the window, and a large pile of papers sat there as well.

"We'll start you out helping me in here," Obi-Wan said, pointing to the desk. "Those are drafts at the final stage; I need you to proof-read them. If you find any mistakes, put them in this basket," he pulled a shallow metal paper basket out from under the desk, "And send them back for correction. Use a red pen- it stands out." And with that, he shook your hand again and left, shutting the door behind him.

You stared at the closed door, and sighed for what felt like the billionth time that day. "Well," you said to yourself, looking back at the papers on the desk, "At least I won't be bored." Pulling up a chair, you grabbed a red pen from the plentiful supply on the desk, and pulled the nearest draft towards you. "Here goes nothing."  
  


* * *

Several hours and several hundred pages later, you yawned and cracked your knuckles. It was over, finally. After going through drafts on what was mostly interviews with provincial political candidates and the local bakery being bought out by Pillsbury, with a generous helping of sending things back for correction, it was over. Gazing up at the clock on the wall, you noticed the time. It was two-o'clock, your lunchtime.

Standing, you stretched and straightened your clothes. As the day had worn on, the noise from the rooms behind you had lowered considerably until it was merely the occasional quiet murmuring and the electronic buzz of machines. It was all quite lovely, actually. "I could get used to this," you told yourself hopefully.

Leaving your briefcase where it was, you left the office, tucking the red pen you had used into a skirt pocket. It was going to be your new best friend, you could already tell.

Heading to the elevator, you were greeted by several friendly smiles and welcomes. _'Everyone seems to be in a much happier mood,'_ you noticed. Pushing the button to call the elevator, you waited in silence, wriggling your toes in your heels every so often to lessen the numbing.

"You did a great job back there," a voice said from behind you. Turning your head, you smiled softly at Obi-Wan as he came to stand beside you. "I was impressed.”

"It was nothing," you said humbly. "Editing isn't so hard, you just have to have a quick eye so you don't miss anything." Back at the university, and even in high school you were asked by your friends and sometimes even teachers to help edit and proof-read papers. You had a knack for that sort of thing.

"Still," Obi-Wan said, stepping forward as the elevator opened. "I don't think I've seen such thorough work before, especially for someone who just started. We'll have to get you on one of the upcoming projects. Maybe you can get some of the lazy-asses back there to work harder."

You grinned. "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it." Obi-Wan smiled at you as he pushed the button for the ground floor. "Lunchtime, right?" He asked. When you nodded, he continued. "Why don't you come sit with me? I'll introduce you to some of the other guys you'll see around."

Although you were a little daunted at the idea of sitting with someone who was at a much higher rank than you were, you nodded. _'It's kind of him to offer. I'm glad I'm working under him.'_

It wasn't long before the elevator stopped. "The cafeteria is this way," Obi-Wan said, leading you to the other end of the building opposite of the large entrance way. "The food they serve is pretty good... nothing gourmet, but good nonetheless."

"It's so big," you said in awe as he led you into the large eating area. People were everywhere, standing in lines and sitting at tables, laughing and talking and eating.

"A lot of people work here," Obi-Wan explained. "What'd you expect?"

You shrugged. "I suppose you're right." Getting in line behind him, you watched as he piled a large amount of food onto his tray. Rice, vegetables, teriyaki and pre-packaged sushi all found a place on his tray. Deciding you weren’t that hungry, you settled for a carton of yoghurt and a small fruit salad. Your stomach was still churning slightly from the newness of it all.

"That's all?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously as you followed him to a table. You nodded, slightly embarrassed. _Should I have gotten more?_

Shaking his head, he sat at a table across from a man with long, neatly plaited dreadlocks, and a dark-skinned woman with beautiful brown hair sprinkled with blue highlights. Next to Obi-Wan, a confident-looking man with brown hair looked up at you. "Who is this, Obi-Wan?"

"My name is (F/N) (L/N). It's a pleasure to meet you," you said hastily as you sat next to Obi-Wan.

"This is my new proof-reading genius," Obi-Wan said with after a mouthful of rice. "She just started today. I said I'd introduce her to you guys. This," he said, gesturing to the brunet next to him, "Is Poe Dameron, head of the Third Division at Coruscant Times. The man grinning at you is Kit Fisto, and the woman next to him is-"

"I'm Ahsoka Tano," the young woman interrupted, smiling at you. "Junior of the Tenth Division. We specialize in crime investigation and the like."

"I'm in people services," Poe said gruffly. "Not exactly my piece of cake, but hey. The position was open and I'm not gonna complain about a top spot."

"Who are you kidding, Poe? Everyone knows you worked your ass off to get accepted there because you didn't want to disappoint your mom," Kit muttered, taking a sip from the can of tea in front of him. Putting it down, he smiled at you. "I'm in marketing, mostly. My division also helps out all the other ones at times. We're versatile."

Nodding, you pushed a couple of grapes around your salad. "I see." _'So many top spots... I feel rather unaccomplished at the moment...'_

"You're so quiet!" Ahsoka gushed, placing her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. "Tell us about yourself! Where do you come from?"

Clearing your throat, you put down her fork. "Well, I-Oof!" You were suddenly interrupted by a man you recognized from the editorial department pushing in between you to wave papers in front of Obi-Wan's face. "Kenobi! We finished the draft report and got the signatures from the president! All it needs now is the Empire’s approval and we're good to go!"

"Aw, crap," Obi-Wan muttered, taking the paper from him and looking it over. "I don't want to walk over there now... I just started lunch." Grumbling, he began to pack up his food.

"Sir..." you said quietly. "If you like, I could take it over there for you." Obi-Wan looked at you in surprise.

"Are you sure? It's your first day..." He looked a little worried, but you decided to insist. _'I want to prove that I'm a capable worker._ ' "Please sir," you continued. "It's no trouble."

"Bah. Let her go, Obi," Kit said, leaning forward. "She volunteered."

"Are you sure?" Poe leaned forward to peer at her. "It's a... long walk and all..."

"I can do it," you insisted. "I need to learn my way around anyways."

Obi-Wan sighed, and handed the papers to you. "Alright, then. Just get the signature of approval and come back. I'll probably be back up on the ninth floor, so just head there." You nodded, and stood.

"Don't worry," Kit said, looking like he was trying not to laugh. "It'll be good experience... if she comes back, that is."

 _'Yeah, it'll be good ex-Wait, what?'_ You looked at Obi-Wan. "Who am I taking it to, exactly?" You had a bad feeling about this, and the others were looking at you like you had just volunteered to wade into shark infested waters while covered in blood.

"The vice-head of the division... Qui-Gon Jinn."

_Shit._

* * *

"Sir, your tea is ready."

Strong honey eyes looked up from the desk as the young raven-haired woman set a steaming tea tray on the dark carved surface. The young woman bowed lowly and departed, closing the door with a click behind her.

The owner of the eyes sighed, and reached for the expensive cup of tea. Inhaling the fragrant steam, he sipped it quietly with closed eyes. Jasmine pearls with just a small hint of chamomile. Delicious.

* * *

_'I'm going to die... my first day of work, and I'm going to die.'_

You walked slowly back down the cobblestone path you had been so eager to venture down earlier. Now the walk was considerably less enjoyable, and you had to keep herself from frowning.

 _‘Qui-Gon Jinn…. one of the most powerful men in the country... no, in the world... and I have to get his signature...'_ Heaving the biggest sigh of the day, you clutched the papers in your hand. Everyone in the world knew who Qui-Gon Jinn was, and with that name came the power and knowledge of the man behind it. Most of what you heard was probably just wild rumor, but one could only wonder if they were true.

Apparently, if Jinn didn't like you then you weren't going to last very long. There were rumors that he had 'taken care of' several opponents in the past, along with various underlings who weren't up to par in his opinion. It was different for people like Obi-Wan, people who had been in their positions for years and most likely met the man before. But for people like you, people who had just started and barely knew anyone in your own division, it was like walking to your own funeral. Even if he decided he didn't want to have you 'taken care of', he could, at the very least, ruin your chances of going anywhere in your career. You weren't sure what you were more afraid of.  
  
The Empire division's building loomed ahead of you, almost exact in its appearance to the Republic division's building save for the landscaping around it. It was much more modern in appearance, and white seemed to be the motif here. Hedges that bloomed with white flowers, birch trees with white bark, and fountains made of white and gray marble stood in perfectly trimmed green grass.

Taking a deep breath, you started up the stairs, noticing the considerable lack of people here compared to the Republic building. Right now, you could only see guards stationed outside the huge marble doors, each of them as passive and intimidating as the next. Going up to the top step, you lowered her head and slipped in between the huge stone doors.

If you thought the outside's motif was white, you had no idea what was in store for you on the inside. It looked like everything here was white; the floors, the walls, the desks, everything. Huge bright lights shone from an unknown source, while above you, much like the Republic building, the sky beckoned to you, the only splash of color around.

Looking around you, you could only see a few people here and there. You walked forward, flinching at how loud your heels sounded within the stark, quiet atmosphere. Going up to the desk, you waited for one of the secretaries to notice you.

"Excuse me," you said quietly. "I need to speak with Qui-Gon Jinn. I have something he needs to sign." Crossing your fingers behind the papers, you hoped the secretary would say something like 'He isn't here today', or 'I'll do that for you', or 'Please, give me those and run as fast as you can out the door and never come back-'

"Take the elevator to the top floor. It's the first door you'll see, you can't miss it," the secretary said without even looking up at you, unbeknownst to the fact that she had just crushed your every hope and dream with that one sentence.

"T-thanks..." you replied quietly, gathering up what courage you had left to make your way to the, yes, you guessed it, white elevators. Pushing the button so it glowed faintly, you closed your eyes and offered a small prayer to the gods. _'Ding.'_

Stepping into the elevator, you let out a shaky breath when your stomach told you they were moving up at a quick pace. _'Pull yourself together! You won't stand a chance if you go in there acting like this, even if he is the kind of man people make him out to be. Just be calm and professional, and when it's all over run like you've never run before.'_

Nodding to yourself, you clutched the papers to your chest and situated your curls around your face. "I can do this. I can do this. I can do this..."

_Ding._

"I can do this!" You whispered to yourself ferociously. Stepping out of the elevator, you gazed up at the impressive marble and wood doors that stood directly in front of you. You walked forward, raised a shaking arm to the door, and knocked as loud as you could possibly manage in this state.

"Enter."


	2. Somebody Told Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit more Qui-Gon in this one, but definitely not as much as I'd personally prefer... But the wait will be worth it! I hope, hehe. 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! Comments are my motivation fuel. <3

The voice from the other side of the doors was a rich baritone, smoky and alluring. Setting your head and chin steadily, you pushed the doors open and stepped inside the lion's den.

The first thing you noticed was the view. Much like Obi-Wan's, the entire back wall of Jinn's personal office was a large window. However, Jinn had a much better view out of his than Obi-Wan had. Even from your position by the door, you could see the clear expanse of blue sky, dotted with soft clouds all the way to the horizon. In the white and steel of the sizable office, looking out the window was like gazing into the most realistic painting anyone had ever done, and it took your breath away for a moment. You also noticed the myriad of plants strategically and neatly scattered throughout the older man’s office; a notable difference from the pure vastness of white that decorated the halls you had just been in.

"What is it? I don't have all day," the smoky voice shocked you out of your reverie. Standing up straight, you cleared your throat and lowered your eyes. With his focus on the task before him on his desk, you couldn’t get a good look at him from this angle, but you curiously noticed the way his arm contracted under his smooth, fitted black dress shirt. His sleeves were rolled up elegantly to his elbows, surprising you as they revealed intricately tattooed forearms.

"I have draft reports that need your signature, sir," you said quickly, pulling your gaze away from the beautiful colours. _Come on... just sign them and let me go._

"Yes, yes," Jinn replied in a bored voice. You could hear the scratch of a pen on paper. "Just leave them here. I'll get to them later."

_What? No! You're ruining my plan!_

You squeezed your eyes shut. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you opened them again, and raised your head. Jinn sat at his desk, scribbling who knew what on several embossed documents. Even with his head slightly lowered and in his sitting position, you could practically feel the power rolling off of him. He wore a simple dark button-up shirt, and you noticed his suit jacket slung on the back of his chair.

 _He hasn't even glanced up at me yet,_ you realized. You suddenly felt a bit braver, and stepped forward.

"Actually, sir... I'd appreciate it if you signed them. Now. I was told to bring them straight back."

The sound of pen on paper stopped, and so did your heart.

Jinn dropped his pen and combed his now free fingers through his long, silky black locks, elegantly pulled back from his face. Slowly, he raised his head, deep honey eyes meeting yours for the first time. They were penetrating, and even from the distance you were at, you could feel yourself being dissected by them.

"What is your name?" Jinn asked suddenly. "I don't believe I've seen you around before."

"(F/N) (L/N), sir. I just started today."

Jinn's brow arched in subtle surprise. "Really? They sent someone who just started to bring me something as important as draft reports? How unusual."

"I volunteered, sir," you corrected him, and almost instantly regretted it. You couldn’t help it; there was something about this man that made you spill words without thought.

His gaze narrowed. "I see. Very well. Bring them here, (F/N) (L/N)." 

You swallowed at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, as if he were tasting it for the first time. Nodding, you stepped forward nonetheless, trying to keep your legs from shaking. You handed the documents to Jinn, who began to flip through them, eyes scanning with practiced exactitude over each page in record time. You shrewdly noticed the golden pothos plant comfortably sitting on his desk. One page after the other, he added his signature underneath the others already written, and on the last page stamped a red insignia beside a gold one. Raising his gaze back to you, he pushed them to the edge of the desk where you quickly scooped them up and avoided his fascinating amber eyes.

"Thank you, sir," you said quietly, bowing as low as your skirt would allow. Turning, you stepped quickly across the floor, slipped between the doors and were gone.

* * *

As he watched the young woman leave, Jinn reclined in his chair, stroking smooth hand through his finely groomed beard.

It was a very rare thing for someone to speak up and contradict him like that woman did. Of course, it was a very small contradiction, but it left him surprised nonetheless.

She was a rather average girl, but Jinn doubted she'd come up to his chin. Her face had been stoic enough, but Jinn could still see the apprehension within them. _And her legs were shaking the entire time, how amusing. But, still..._

Leaning forward, he picked up a slim black phone and pressed a button on the receiver. "Caedus," he spoke.

"Yes, sir?" The voice coming out of the phone was quiet.

"Find me everything you can about one (F/N) (L/N). She began work in the Republic Division today, you can find her file in the directories."

"Understood. Do you want it tonight?"

Jinn exhaled quietly through his nose, and began to stand. "No, just leave it on my desk. I'll look at it tomorrow. I'm going home."

* * *

“I can't believe it," Obi-Wan announced when you stepped off the elevator. "You came back! In one piece!"

Smiling weakly, you sat down in an empty chair. " I guess I did, didn't I?" Leaning your head back, you rubbed your eyes and drank in the chaotic, colorful mess of the ninth-floor editorial department. _No white... no marble..._

Obi-Wan smirked, leaning across the divider between two desks. "Look, I hate to make you work after the life and death ordeal you just faced, but I've got a stack of features back in my office that are _screaming_ to be proof-read..."

Laughing, you stood. "It's alright. I'll get it done." Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the red pen you had out there earlier. "Mark them in red, right?"

Obi-Wan grinned. "You're going to fit in okay around here."

* * *

You finished up your work at ten minutes to six, giving you just enough time to clean up before you were supposed to go meet Anakin. You filed the different documents in their respective places, said good-bye to Obi-Wan and the remaining staff on duty and made your way to the elevator. The building was quieter now, most of the staff had already gone home. Of course, there were people like those in the ninth division who were so behind on deadlines and the like that they had no choice to stay a few hours, but nobody really complained. Being dedicated to your job meant doing whatever it took to finish things and finish them right.

 _No one ever got anywhere doing things half-assed,_ you mused as you stepped into the foyer. The setting sun cast shadows through the expansive room, and you were glad for the contrast. _Much better than white, white, white._

Stepping wearily to the great doors, you grimaced as your shoes pinched your toes. You could not wait for the chance to take them off. Exiting the building, you were greeted at the bottom of the steps by Anakin, who was waiting as promised.

"How was your day?" He asked, eyes smiling. "Not too terribly boring, I hope."

You just laughed. "No, not too bad." Anakin looked puzzled, but led you down the cobblestones.

"That's good to hear. Come on, the parking garage is this way. I'll drive you home after dinner, okay?"

You nodded, grateful. No train ride home tonight. Your luck was slowly getting better.

Anakin helped you inside his car, a newer but modest model. It was nothing like the sleek, gleaming machines the heads and CEOs drove, but it was comfortable. With its tan leather and polished steering wheel, you felt it complimented Anakin's easy-going and professional attitude.

"There's this place not too far from downtown," Anakin said as he maneuvered the vehicle through the tree-lined driveway of Coruscant Times. "It's got pretty good Italian food. That's still your favorite, right?"

You nodded. "I can't believe you still remember, Anakin. I can barely remember my mom's favorite foods, much less my friends."

Anakin grinned. "It's a talent of mine. Besides, it's out of the way of the usual evening crowds, so it won't be too crowded."

* * *

Anakin was right; the place he had chosen was out of the way. It was a small mom and pop Italian eatery situated between a meat market and a florist. In fact, if Anakin hadn't pointed it out, you might never have found it. Once inside, a cute young waitress showed them to a comfortable table with a view out the front windows, took their drink orders and left them to talk.

"This is nice," you sighed comfortably, leaning back into your seat. Figuring no one would notice, you slipped your feet out of the heels, flexing your toes in relief.

"Isn't it?" Anakin grinned, taking a small sip of his water. "I found it about two months ago. My old car broke down just outside, and I waited in here for the tow-truck. I've been coming in at least once a week since then."

You nodded, reclining in your chair. "I haven't been out to eat in a long time. Since the last time I saw my mom, at least. I've been living off food from the grocery near my apartment. It's not exactly the healthiest way of living, but I like to think I compromise with my commute."

Anakin grinned. "So you're living by yourself, then?" You nodded. "So am I," he continued. "Once I left the dorms I stayed with a friend for a few weeks while getting my things in order. I'm renting a small flat in the east side. It's kind of out of the way, but the rent is decent and the neighborhood isn't too bad. Although, that might change soon."

“Oh, yeah?”

Anakin couldn’t contain his cheeky grin, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he shifted in his seat from either embarrassment or excitement. Or both. “Yeah, I’ve met this… fantastic woman. She’s a senator.”  
  
Your eyes widened, but so did your smile. “No way!”

“Her name is Padme Amidala,” he beamed. “We’ve been dating for a couple of years, actually. I think it’s almost time for me to, ehm…”

“Pop the question?”

Bashfully, the man scratched his nose and couldn’t help but grin and nod.

Your chest filled with warmth, and you smiled softly at your old friend. “Anakin, that’s so wonderful. I’m so happy for you, and quite honestly surprised that you’re settling down.”

Laughing, Anakin leaned back as the young waitress came back with a notepad. "The usual, Mr. Skywalker?" She asked in a lilting voice. Anakin nodded. You ordered some butternut squash ravioli, deciding that you had a sweet tooth that night. Besides, when was the next time you would be treated to dinner? You were taking advantage of it.

"Your first day wasn't too boring?" Anakin asked, honey colored eyes finding your face. "I've heard the ninth floor has been pretty wild these past few months, with the whole downsizing dilemma and all."

“Downsizing?” You blinked at him, and he looked taken aback.

“They didn’t tell you?” Anakin asked, and you shook your head. “Wow, I can’t believe they didn’t think to tell you.”

“What’s going on?”

“Well, we have two editorial and reporter teams: one in the Republic division, the other in the Empire division. A few months ago, our CEOs decided that they couldn’t justify two of the same departments within two divisions. They couldn’t choose which team to sack, so they’re waiting to see which one performs best at this year’s end,” Anakin suddenly looked a bit concerned. “Frankly, it looks like the Empire is in the lead so far.”

Your brows knit, and worry began to settle in your stomach. “So, my department will be fired if… what? What is our performance defined by?”

Anakin shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, the quality and popularity of each article written. You already know this, but there are two newspapers put out by Coruscant Times every month: the Republic Tribune, and the Empirical Post. Whoever has most sales by the end of the year will stay on with Coruscant Times.”

You couldn’t help but slouch back in your seat, heaving out a held breath. Sensing your anxiety, Anakin offered, “But you should bring it up with Obi-Wan; I’m sure that man has a game plan of some sort for you.”

Though weakly, you smiled in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right…”

In an attempt to change the topic, Anakin continued with a comforting smile, “So, first day? Chaotic?”

You shook your head and relaxed a little. "No, actually. I mean, it was wild and chaotic, but in an organized way. I think if they tried doing things any other way everything would fall apart at the seams. Everyone was very friendly, and Obi-Wan invited me to sit with him and a few others during our lunch break."

Anakin looked impressed. "Really? See, I told you. You do make good impressions through actions."

"Yeah," you continued, playing with your spoon, "But then I offered to take a final draft report over to the Empire building. To Qui-Gon Jinn."

 _"Pfffft!"_ Anakin, who had been taking a sip of water, proceeded to spray it all over the table and choke. You leapt up with your napkin and began to dab at his soaked collar, regret etched on your face. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you choke!"

Pushing your arm away, Anakin grabbed a napkin and wiped his face. Coughing slightly, he looked up at you through hair that had fallen in his face.

"Are you _insane_? What were you thinking?"

You sat back down in your chair, wiping up the rest of the splattered water. "I volunteered without knowing. Once they told me, it was too late to refuse." Setting your hands in your lap, you sighed. "Besides... it wasn't that bad. He just asked my name, signed them and I left. No harm done, right?"

Anakin shook his head, placing a hand over his face. "Look," he said slowly. "You've heard the stories about him, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"But nothing!" Anakin interrupted. "You need to be careful. That man has the power to ruin your life on a whim." He reached across the table, picking up one of your hands in his own larger ones. "I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, but please, promise you'll be careful. I don't want to see you hurt."

You nodded slowly. "I know... and I promise. I'll start asking questions before I do anymore favours."

Looking satisfied, Anakin leaned back in his chair just as the waitress returned with their food. "Good. Now, let's eat."

* * *

After Anakin had dropped you off in front of your apartment, you stretched in the cool night air and walked up to the old stone building. Your room was on the second floor, and since the elevator had been "out of order" for who knows how long, you started up the stairs. You hadn't bothered to put your heels back on when you two left the restaurant, and the soft padding of your feet hardly made a sound on the cool cement stairs. Not that you were worried; not many people lived in this building, and the ones who did were old and heavy sleepers.

Reaching into your briefcase, you pulled out your keys and unlocked your door. Turning on the lights, you yawned, throwing your shoes and briefcase onto a chair.

Your apartment wasn't large, but it was comfortable. It had a living room with a nice kitchen at one end, a bathroom and a bedroom with a large closet and its own shower and bath. All in all, it was perfect for a young woman living on her own. You had received some nice furniture from aunts and uncles as graduation gifts, and had purchased some good kitchen utensils with what money you had accepted from your mother. It wasn't much, but you liked the cozy, homey feel of it. Plus, it had a working air and heating system.

Going into your bedroom, you turned on the lights, eventually venturing into the bathroom to turn on the water. It was getting late, but a nice hot bath sounded really good. After pulling out your favourite soaps and shampoo, you went back into your bedroom to find towels and pajamas. "It's been a long day," you murmured as you began to unbutton your blouse. Unzipping your skirt, you slipped out of your clothes and shut the door to the bathroom. You tested the water with your foot, and decided that it was a good temperature.

 _"Aaaaaah..."_ You slid neck deep into the water, letting your hair to float around you. Closing your eyes, you let your body soak away all the pain and exhaustion of your day. You popped your toes out of the water, admiring the red polish on them. Eventually, your mind began to wander.

 _Anakin's right... I should be more careful when doing favours and volunteering. People might see that as an invitation to walk all over me. I'll never get anywhere like that._ Sitting up, you popped open the top of your shampoo and let the slippery mixture drizzle out onto your hand. The light scent of vanilla mixed with the steam as you worked it into your damp hair, massaging your scalp. _I'm expected to run errands since I'm a new employee, but from now on I'll try to stay away from ones that take me to Jinn._ You had to admit, though, the man wasn't what you expected. He was much younger than you pictured for a vice president, in his mid thirties, you guessed. And although he had been sitting the entire time, you could tell he stood at least a foot taller than you. He had appeared extremely well-groomed, but what really surprised you was his tattoos, and his eyes.

Even at the distance across the desk, you could see they were the most vivid, fervent amber eyes you had ever seen. When he had lifted them to meet yours, it was like you were being put into a trance. The feeling you got from Jinn’s eyes was almost exactly how you had felt under a hypnotist's influence, years ago during a carnival.

At the thought, you poured water over your head, and you washed the vanilla shampoo from your hair. "He was very attractive, though," you admitted. "I wonder if he's married?" Although their names and accomplishments were known to the entire country, the private lives of the heads at Coruscant Times were widely less known. In fact, you didn't know if any of the heads were in relationships, and if they were, they did a good job of keeping it private.

 _They do have that right, though,_ you said as you pulled the plug in the bathtub and stood, droplets of water rolling down your skin. _Anyways, they're not exactly celebrities._

After toweling off and changing into your most comfortable pair of pajamas, you turned off all the lights and climbed into bed. Wrapping the ivory bedspread you had owned since high school around you, you laid back into your pillow, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Meanwhile, clear across the city, a dark-haired man sat in front of a large window on a leather couch, watching the lights of the city below him. He owned several lavish apartments around the city, each of them with different views, but this one was the one he lived in the most. The entire apartment was dark, the only light coming from the city outside.

Reaching to the short coffee table in front of him, Jinn picked up a delicate teacup, bringing it to his lips. The taste of ginger with just a hint of vanilla lingered in his mouth even after he had placed the fragile cup back on the polished wood of the table. Letting out a tired sigh, he leaned back against the couch, laying an arm over the back lazily. This was how he always spent his evenings, gazing out over the city with a cup of tea until exhaustion forced him to retire to the bedroom. It was here that he settled into a state of absolute calm, and let the mirrors hidden behind his eyes fade away. They were his greatest weapon, and it was only while he was alone in the quiet dark that he dared let their true form show.

He hadn't gotten to the position he was in by pure luck. No, it took a lot of careful planning and perfectly placed words laced with just a hint of poison in order to accomplish all he had in such a short time. Here he was, nearing thirty-seven and already at the top of the world. Or at least, near enough that he could practically taste it.

Sighing deeply, he stood. With one last lingering glance out the window, he went into his room, shutting the heavy wooden door with a muffled _click_.

* * *

Yawning, you shifted your feet while waiting for your train. You had woken up earlier than usual, and unable to fall back asleep, you decided to just start getting ready. After deciding on a pair of black slacks and a white button up, you retrieved the cursed heels and briefcase from where you had dropped them the previous night and left, albeit a little earlier than you had first intended.

Now you stood at the train station closest to your home, waiting for it to arrive. In front of you stood a gaggle of schoolgirls in uniforms, hovering over a magazine one of them held. Smiling softly to yourself, you remembered a time when you were like that, waiting with your friends without a thought to what the future may hold. _I feel so old... yuck._

The heavy _whir_ of the approaching train echoed through the open-air station, and immediately everyone started booking books back into bags and phones back into pockets. Praying for an open seat but knowing there wouldn't be one, you stepped closer to the loading platform, edging your way in between an older man in a blue business suit and a elderly woman holding a wicker basket. Apparently, this was the station where the elderly population of the city decided they wanted to get on the morning trains. _Just my luck_.

Slowing to a halt, the train doors slid open, allowing the people to board. As usual, any free seats were filled with snoozing people, so you took your usual spot hanging onto a pole. _Don't fail me now, feet!_ Wriggling your toes for luck, you wavered slightly as the train lurched forward, sending you to your second day of work.

Remembering your promise to Anakin, you wondered about the previous days events. You had been wondering what the truth about Jinn really was. You had no doubt that the man was dangerous in a way, but you weren’t the kind of person who judged people on other people's statements. In truth, you wondered how much of the rumours were made up of just that, pure rumour. You had no intention of venturing forth to find out yourself, but you were curious.

_Maybe... I'll just watch him. From afar, of course. That's not breaking my promise, right?_

* * *

“Good morning, sir!"

Jinn's lips pursed. "Good morning, Xanatos. Please refrain from shouting in my office today."

Xanatos frowned, or at least what Qui-Gon thought was a frown (it was never quite clear with this man). "Aw, c'mon. Who's it bothering?"

"Me," Jinn stated, slinging his suit jacket across the back of his chair. "I don't have time for your frivolities today, so if you would kindly leave..."

Pouting, Xanatos ignored his superior and pulled up a chair, scooting as close to Qui-Gon's desk as he could. "Why'd you leave so early yesterday? It isn't like you.”

Settling into his chair, Qui-Gon started his computer. "I was tired. Besides, I wasn't aware that my arrival and leaving habits were so closely monitored by you, Xanatos."

"Isn't that what you keep me around for, though?" he asked with a fox-like grin. "Keeping a check on people and all that is my specialty."

"I suppose so." Running his fingers through his hair, Qui-Gon pulled a slim black folder towards him. It had been waiting on his desk when he had arrived.

“What's that?" Xanatos asked, cocking his head to the side in interest. "A report?"

"You could say that," Qui-Gon said, opening the folder to reveal several pages. The first was a simple form that all employees of Coruscant Times had on file.

 _(F/N) (L/N), date of birth. Height, weight. Hair colour, eye colour. Employee identification number 00171394._ Next to the words was an inset picture of the young woman, smiling at the camera with a youthful expression. Qui-Gon stared at her eyes for a few lingering seconds before setting the paper down on the table, where Xanatos promptly snatched it up.

"Who's this?" he said slowly. "(F/N)… Huh. Interesting name.”

"Hmm," Qui-Gon acknowledged absently, focused on the remaining pages in his hand and getting annoyed by Xanatos’ prying. The pages were filled with random facts that weren't on public file anywhere, things that a seasoned professional like Caedus and his underlings could find out in a heartbeat.

 _Graduated from Laurier University where she majored in publishing, reporting and manuscript documentation. Mother, date of birth, father, deceased. Current residence is apartment number six, in the building owned by Owen and Beru Lars, on the corner of Seventeenth and Elm street. Currently lives alone, and single._ The rest of the pages were filled with stats and records from her university and high school days. Narrowing his eyes, Qui-Gon placed them on the table, allowing Xanatos to flip through them.

"So, what's this all about? You in love or something? You know, this could be considered signs of being a stalker-"

"Xanatos," Qui-Gon interrupted, "What does her family name bring to mind when you hear it?" The younger man paused, face thoughtful.

"Now that I think about it, it does seem familiar... Why? Is she someone important?"

Running his hand through his beard, Qui-Gon shook his head. "No. Not especially."

* * *

“(F/N)? You done with those?"

Capping your pen, you stood, gathering the pages around you into a neat stack. "Yeah. I'm just waiting on the ones I sent back for revision."

Obi-Wan nodded from the doorway, looking at a clipboard in his arms. "Good. Could you go over to the printers and help Rose with the loading? She’s swamped."

Nodding, you left the room, making your way down a narrow pseudo-hallway made up of filing cabinets and desks. The printing area covered a good fourth of the editorial department, with huge, modern printers going almost twenty-four seven. The sheets they spat out tended to accumulate quickly if someone wasn't watching them, thus leading to an even bigger mess and panic. It was best to keep this place running as smoothing as possible, even with all the other areas of the department in utter chaos.

"(F/N)! 'Bout time someone showed up!" A high-pitched voice sounded from behind one of the huge printers. "Get over here. I need you to load those papers in!"

You slid in between towering stacks of glossy blank paper, immediately grabbing as many as would fit into the input tray and maneuvering them into a neat position. From the other side, Rose's black curls could be seen moving from one huge output tray to the other. You continued this strange dance of the printers until the stack of paper on your end disappeared to come out as clean pamphlets on Rose's side.

"Thanks," Rose said breathlessly, wiping her ink-stained hands on waist apron she was always seen with. "It was getting hectic until you showed up. Did Obi-Wan send you?"

Leaning against a printer, you nodded. "Yeah. He said you needed the help."

"Hell yeah I needed the help," Rose muttered. "For some reason no one ever stays in this department for long. I wonder why." It was no secret that the printing department was the least favored department in the ninth division. If you worked here, your new style consisted of ink-stained clothes and paper-cut fingers. Not pleasant.

"It's not a problem," you said. "If you don't need me here anymore, I need to head back to Obi-Wan's office. I was waiting on some documents that are probably done by now."

Rose waved you away, so you bowed slightly and left. You headed back down the desk hallway, silently congratulating yourself on managing to not stain your white blouse with ink. Rounding a corner, you nearly bumped into the back of a man standing outside of Obi-Wan's office.

"Oh! Excuse me, I wasn't watching where I was going," you apologized, bowing from your waist. The man turned, and you caught sight of the yellowest eyes you had ever seen.

"Um, can I help you, sir?" you asked quietly. "Are you waiting for Obi-Wan?" The man nodded, pulling a sheaf of papers out from under his arm.

"Yes, I need to give him the Senator’s interview proposition from the reporting team in the Empire division. The newest head there isn't exactly the _brightes_ t of men when it comes to punctuality and socializing. Or any other talent needed to head such a department, now that I think about it..." Sighing, he looked around him. "Do you know where Kenobi is? It's important."

Shaking your head, you smiled apologetically. "No, but you could give them to me. I'm kind of his assistant for this week, and I'd be happy to take a look for you." The man looked hesitant, but urgency must have given way to doubt for he handed them to you with the instructions to just hand them over to someone who could interview the Senator in question.

"Understood," you said, flipping through the documents. "I'll do my best to get this finished as soon as possible, Mr. ..." You trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

"Revan. Just Revan, head of the courier and managing department in the Empire division." He held out his hand, and you shook it.

"My name is (F/N) (L/N). It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."  
  
The yellow-eyed man nodded, then turned. "Get them done. It's of the utmost importance."

Watching him go, you raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled. _Strange people work in the Empire building._ Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as a printer suddenly went up in smoke when a man in glasses started yelling profanities and hitting it with his keyboard.

 _But then again_ , you thought while smiling, _Strange people work here as well._


	3. Tucking Tails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so if you're not a massive Star Wars nerd with no life like I am, you might not recognize a few of the names in this chapter, so I'll just tell you now:   
> Revan = Darth Revan. Look him up on wookiepedia, he's pretty dope. And hot. I mean what  
> Bastila Shan = Darth Revan's wife in canon  
> Xanatos = Qui-Gon's second(?) failed apprentice  
> Rael Averross = from Master and Apprentice, he was Count Dooku's padawan before Qui-Gon. He's older than Qui-Gon, but not nearly as powerful as our boi  
> Senator Mothma = one of the Galactic Senate senators in the SW universe

"...and are you completely _insane_? You call _this_ an interview? This is crap! This is a huge, stinking, steaming pile of- What? Don't you _dare_ hang up on m-" Obi-Wan slammed the phone down and looked up. "He hung up on me!"

You looked up from the interview questions Revan had delivered, nibbling on the end of your pen. "Well, you _were_ screaming obscenities and insulting his ability to pull together a cohesive draft... along with several rather crude questions concerning his ability to read and whether or not his mother had mated with a goat, sir." Looking back down at the reports, you coughed quietly. "Frankly, I admire his patience. If that had been me, I would have hung up on you ages ago."

Frowning, Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his head. "Well, yeah, maybe I could have omitted about two-thirds of that rant, but it's hell week! Lando knows how far behind the Empirical Post we are, and he still sends me shoddy reports! I swear, when I see him, I'm going to shove this crap right back up the hole it came out of! How am I supposed to keep my team employed if we can’t even compete?" Picking up his clipboard, he stomped to the door, apparently deciding to take his frustration out on the rest of the department. "Fisto! Where's that manuscript I gave you?"

Sighing, you rubbed your temples. You liked working here so far, but you couldn't wait for this week to be over. _I wonder how long it'll be until I get my own desk. I can't stay in Obi-Wan’s office forever._ Tapping your pen against the desk, you studied the reports and interview prep you had been working on for the last hour. Revan was right: whoever Jinn had appointed to head of whatever department these were from obviously had no idea what he was doing. There were mistakes you hadn't seen since high school; misspelled words you had mastered in third grade, improper grammar and butchered sentence structure that would make an illiterate man cry. The interview questions were completely irrelevant to the senator’s campaign; nothing from this interview prep would generate an article of substance. Honestly, it had gotten to the point where you had wanted to march over to the Empire’s division and slap whoever had written this.

 _I can't do that, though. Might run into Jinn..._ Although you doubted he was the kind of boss one would meet walking through the halls, you didn't feel like almost dying two days in a row. Once was enough for you.

Remembering you had a job to do, you organized your papers. Though the interview preparation had been botched, you had struck out on taking this assignment from Revan: the senator in question was none other than Padme Amidala. The name had taken you a while to recognize, but when you did, the grin on your face lasted for hours. You stretched, undoing the kinks in your neck, before you reached for the phone on Obi-Wan’s desk. You punched in a number written on your notepad, and waited for an answer.

You smiled softly when you heard a familiar voice on the other line. “Hey, Anakin. I have a favour to ask of you.”

* * *

“(Y/N) took the interview prep from you?”  
  
“As you requested, sir.”

In a quiet, high-end café somewhere uptown, Qui-Gon and Revan sat across from each other. Looking out the window to his right, Qui-Gon looked out over a small square, dotted with tastefully trimmed hedges and trees. They were in the far eastern corner of the city, in one of the wealthier and considerably less populated districts. Qui-Gon wondered briefly if there were apartments or flats for sale; he wouldn't mind staying here once or twice.  
  
“Excellent,” Qui-Gon praised the younger man, and Revan followed his superior’s gaze out of the window.

"Nice, isn't it?" Revan commented after a while, looking out at the view. A couple walked past the window, hand in hand and looking positively in love. Quietly curious, Revan turned to Qui-Gon. "I don’t mean to pry, sir, but are looking to court this woman?” Qui-Gon gave him an incredulous stare, and Revan finished his thought prudently. “I only ask because I don’t recall you ever taking interest in anyone so openly. It seems to be the only thing missing from your life, really. And, well, you haven’t exactly shared your intentions as to why you’re going through all this trouble for her.” 

“Did you really expect me to?” Leaning back in his chair, Qui-Gon looked at his dark-haired companion with an amused smile. Revan tried not to roll his eyes; his boss wasn’t known to reveal his goals, only ever giving out tasks his subordinates without so much as an explanation. Smoothing down his neatly trimmed moustache, Qui-Gon considered Revan’s comment before speaking. "I've thought about marriage once or twice," he admitted, laying one tattooed arm on the table. "But the more I think upon it, the more I'm convinced the married life isn't for me."

It wasn't like he had never been in a relationship, no, that wasn't the case at all. He had maintained several private relationships over the course of his life, but all of them had been quite short-lived, and kept from the public’s eyes. But marriage wasn't something he fancied. It just never felt right to him.

Shrugging, Revan drummed his fingers against the table. "Suit yourself." In truth, he was a little disappointed. He'd always been curious how Qui-Gon would change if he actually _tried_ to care about someone _. Looks like that's never going to happen…_ The waitress appeared at their table, balancing their dishes on a platter. She set their drinks and foods down in front of them, bowing slightly and hurrying away.

Picking up his cappuccino, Revan took a generous gulp of the bitter, frothy drink and eyed Qui-Gon over his cup. He watched the man pour himself jasmine tea, and almost shook his head in amusement at the paradox of a man Jinn was. Even after being his righthand man for over a decade, Revan still found the way he could calmly drink his tea, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, astounding. After all, Revan had been witness to the many, many _questionable_ adventures of Qui-Gon Jinn.

* * *

"Hey! It's lunchtime, you know!" Obi-Wan stuck his head inside his office, pointing to the clock on the wall. You looked up from the newly finished interview prep, and saw that half of your lunch break was already over.

"Oops. I didn't even notice," you said, standing and stretching. You had been working on Senator Amidala’s interview for the better part of your day. You had less than four hours of work left, and you had barely noticed the time going by. After all, you needed to have this done by next week for your interview with the senator.

Frowning slightly, Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "You should pay better attention. If I hadn't come in here, you would've missed lunch altogether. There are people who collapse from hunger and overwork all the time. Don't feel so pressured."

Smiling weakly, you nodded. He was right; you needed to keep your strength up. When you were younger, your immune system hadn't been the best, and you didn't want to risk getting sick. Your job was too important.

 _It's nice of him to look out for me,_ you thought inwardly. _Even if he is a little uncouth at times._

"Did you redo the interview prep?" Obi-Wan asked, nodding to the papers in your hands. When you nodded, he reached for them. "Good. I'll see they get sent over to the Empire division while you go get something to eat."

You gently pushed the papers away from his reach, and he cocked a delicate eyebrow at you. Sheepishly, you offered him a smile. “Well, actually… I was thinking I could do the interview.”

Obi-Wan retracted his hand and gave you a sceptical look you distinctly recognized, encouraging you to further explain.

“I’ve arranged to cover Senator Amidala’s campaign; I have a meeting with her next week,” you couldn’t contain your smirk when Obi-Wan’s eyes widened.

“Well, I’ll be,” The older man started, pleasantly taken aback. He leaned back on his desk, never taking his eyes off of you. “That’s going to piss off quite a few people in the Empire. How in the world did you score that?”

Matter-of-factly, you tossed your hair over your shoulder for effect. “I just _happen_ to know her soon-to-be fiancé pretty well.”

“Excellent work, (F/N),” Chuckling, Obi-Wan ran a hand through his beard and his eyes pensively drifted to the wall across from him as if calculating exactly how much this win would mean for your team. “Excellent work…”

You packed up your papers as he lost himself in his thoughts, and bid him farewell and left the office. Making your way downstairs, you rubbed under your eyes, wiping away any smudged eyeliner that might have accumulated there. You didn't wear much make-up at all, opting for more of a natural look, but you did apply a thin layer of mascara and eyeliner to accentuate your eyes. You had often been complimented on them, and decided that it was okay to make them appear a bit more noticeable. You were rather proud of their colour and long lashes you had inherited from your mother.

As the elevator reached the bottom floor, you departed and made your way to the cafeteria. _I'll eat more today,_ you decided, _Since I'm not being treated to dinner tonight._ Grabbing a fresh sandwich and a green tea, you sat by yourself at one of the tables. As lunch was nearing a close, there weren't many people left in the cafeteria. _Kind of lonely,_ you remarked, noticing the empty tables and chairs. You hadn't had much experience with loneliness until you had started living on your own. Before, you had been surrounded by friends from high school and the university. Here, you hardly knew anyone on even a semi-personal level, and your apartment building wasn't much better. There weren't very many people your age in that area of the city.

 _Maybe I should get a pet,_ you mused. _Mother would say "get a boyfriend", but I don't feel like saddling myself to a relationship right now. I've got too much going on._ Picking at your sandwich, you sighed. _I don't want to be single forever, though. Some of my friends are already getting married; look at Anakin._ You hadn't thought seriously about settling down until later on in life, but now you were wondering if that had been the right decision. You had boyfriends in the past, but marriage felt far out of reach at the moment _. Right now, I'll just concentrate on work,_ you decided firmly. _Just go with the flow..._

* * *

 _Oh, my feet hurt. I can't wait until I take these shoes off..._ you inwardly complained to yourself as you hobbled down the street. The sun was falling on your second day of work, and all you could think about was getting home.

You had finished up several papers Obi-Wan had left over, and left work a little after six. The train ride had been crowded with business people going home, civilians getting on and off work, and university students commuting to night classes. Once again, all the seats were taken by elderly people and little children. The noises and smells were almost overwhelming after your quiet, uneventful day at work.

Finally reaching your apartment, you climbed the stairs, wincing as your sore feet throbbed. "I wish ballet flats were considered 'work attire'," you muttered, reaching your door. Unlocking it, you stumbled inside your darkened living space and unstrapped the torture devices strapped to your feet. "Aaaaaaaaah..." you let out a huge sigh and collapsed onto a chair. "Finally... I can feel my toes again..."

After resting, you resumed your nightly routine of cooking, bathing and getting ready for bed. You whipped up a quick steamed salmon and bowl of rice, and grabbed an apple to tide you over in case you felt hungry later. Grabbing a book, you jumped into bed, deciding to read until you fell asleep.

Faintly, you wondered what a man like Jinn did on his nights. Was he alone? Or perhaps he mingled with other wealthy famous people like himself. Shrugging, you opened the dogged paged book and settled into your pillow. _He's a wealthy man. I'm sure he has plenty of distractions from the monotony of the normal world._

* * *

The next couple of days went by in a muffled blur. You resumed your work in Obi-Wan's office, correcting, writing and getting to know the people in the department better. Several of them had invited you to go get some drinks after work, but you always refused. You were usually pretty exhausted at the end of the day, and had never been much of a drinker anyways. A quiet night at home was how you wanted to spend your evenings, even if they were a bit lonely.

So, when you woke up on Friday morning, you expected you day to go on like the last four had. Yawning, you squinted from the light dawning through your curtained window and sat up, rubbing the side of your face where it had become compressed by your pillow. You had begun to unwind your hair from the braid you had plaited it into the night before when you noticed the screen of your phone was lit up from a voice-mail notification.

 _A voice-mail? Who called me?_ While it wasn't unusual for you to get calls, they were usually made sometime during the height of the day, never in the middle of the night. Abandoning your hair for the moment, you picked up the phone, unlocking it and placing it to your ear.

 _You have one new voice-mail. To listen to the message, press one._ You followed the automated directions, scratching your arm in a bored fashion _. One new message, sent at one-thirty seven a.m._ Scrunching your nose in confusion and annoyance, you briefly wondered who would call you at one-thirty seven. A young sounding voice sounded in your speaker.

_Hello, Miss (L/N)! This is Senator Amidala’s assistant-_

Oh. That's who.

_-and I'm calling because Senator Amidala was wondering if you could reschedule her campaign interview to this upcoming evening! I’m sorry to call you so late, or rather, so early, but I, ehm, well, I quite frankly forgot to reschedule it until now._

You sighed, rubbing your temple. This didn’t give you much leeway, but you had no choice at this point, and getting frustrated with what you imagined to be Senator Amidala’s fresh new intern wouldn’t be very professional on your end.

 _Any-who, I wanted to ask you if you'd be available to meet us at Thompson Square this upcoming evening. The event hall is just a 20 minute ride from your work, so you could just drop by after work. Hope to see you then!_ Erasing the message, you sighed once more when you realized that you really had no choice but to concede to the Senator’s schedule. You had planned to practice your interview questions, given that this was the very first interview of your journalistic career, but part of the job relied heavily on being flexible in these types of situations.

"Crap," you murmured, getting out of bed. You grumbled your way through dressing and putting your hair up in a halfway decent twist, leaving the apartment almost an hour and a half earlier than you usually did. _I'll have to ask Obi-Wan if I can leave earlier. I'll have to take a taxi to Thompson Hall, the train doesn't go through that part of town. What a hassle..._ Blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face, you walked the distance to the train station, heels clicking and legs rubbing together slightly in your jeans. On Saturdays, Obi-Wan had explained to you that in exchange for making you work on what was considered a weekend in most offices, the company allowed everyone to go business-casual, which translated to: wear your most professional looking pair of jeans. The previous week, you had decided to show up in a pencil skirt, only to realize that everyone really did wear jeans on Saturdays, and Obi-Wan wasn’t trying to haze you. Ahsoka had teased you about being uptight for at least half an hour that day, so you had decided to follow the denim movement this week.

The train station was crowded as always, and you stepped into your usual boarding line with the same monotony as the last few days. You were very early for your usual train, you realized. _There's one arriving in nine minutes, but how am I going to spend the extra forty minutes I have before I'm due in the office?_ As if in reply, your stomach began to rumble _. I forgot to grab something to eat... maybe I'll do that when I arrive. There's a little bakery near the Dangai station. I can splurge on a little breakfast today._ Letting out a bored breath, you shifted as a rumbling signaled the arrival of the train. After going through the usual boarding hassle, you settled near the doors, bracing your toes for the standing ride.

To keep yourself from falling asleep, you had devised little activities to keep your mind occupied. One of them was looking around at the people situated in their various spots and guessing where they were going. Sometimes it was easy, for instance it was almost obvious the people in business attire were most likely heading to some office while the teens in school uniforms were headed off to another tedious day of school. The old lady with the basket and pocket book was most likely off to a market while the young man with the laptop and messenger bag was probably heading to his mornings first lecture at a university. People like this were the ones who usually populated the trains, but sometimes you caught a glimpse of someone who was harder to place.

Standing three people down was a graying man with a stubbly beard in a long white lab coat. You weren’t sure if he was a doctor or some sort of scientist. Wouldn't someone in that profession most likely have a car to drive to work? And this man seemed pretty well seasoned. Why was he riding a train?

Directly across from you sat a young woman in an all black pantsuit, a heavily clasped suitcase on her lap. She wore dark sunglasses and heavy looking boots. She reminded you of a spy or a secret agent, and you could only guess what might be in the suitcase.

 _Now arriving at Dangai Station. Ple-_ The announcement shook you out of your reverie, and you disembarked the vessel with a small smile on your face. You never looked to see what the doctor/scientist or the secret agent woman did when they left the train -- you liked the mystery.

Up ahead, you could see the bakery tucked in between a travel agency and a bookstore. As you drew closer, you could smell the delicious scent of fresh baked breads and pastries. Your mouth began to water and your stomach rumbled even louder as you pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bells at the top of the door rang merrily and as you stepped inside, and you were greeted with a lovely atmosphere. It was a small bakery but obviously popular; there were a lot of people throughout the small dining area. The place was clean and painted a beautiful peach color, and towards the back, you could see several glass display cases filled with succulent baked goods.

You stepped into line behind a black-haired man who was currently ordering. Your eyes examined the foods in the cases before deciding you’d have one of the small sweet loafs in the back. Maybe some coffee to go with it.

"Here you are, Mr. Revan. One plain croissant and a medium cappuccino. The usual." The young employee at the counter handed a small bag and a to-go cup to the man in front of her. You raised a brow in recognition of the name. _Fancy meeting him here..._ Clearing your throat, you stepped back slightly as the man turned from the counter.

"Miss (L/N)," he said flatly, clutching his breakfast in his hands. "Good morning."

"Uh, you too, sir," you said quickly, smiling slightly. The man nodded, shifting the weight of his coffee around in his hand.

"I was impressed with the interview prep I got back. You're not up to Kenobi's speed or skill, but I can tell you have a talent for your chosen field," Revan said, yellow eyes staring. Remembering to have enough grace to be modest, you bowed slightly. "Thank you, sir. I'm glad I was able to help."

Nodding once more, Revan stepped past you. "Keep up the good work, (L/N). No doubt I'll have to call upon your department again, especially if Kylo continues to butcher the simplest of task." With that he left, leaving you feeling a bit discomforted but slightly pleased from the compliment.

"Can I help you?" The young woman, a bit older than yourself, behind the counter spoke up, and you stepped up to the counter. "Sorry," you said quietly. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting." The woman just smiled, waving her hand. She had impossibly long, beautiful brown hair and gray eyes. You also noticed a name-tag with 'Bastila Shan’ written in a flowy script on her uniform. A very filled out uniform, to say the least; the woman had the perfect hourglass figure, and was quite frankly very well-endowed.

"That's okay. Mr. Revan comes in here every morning and hardly ever talks. It's nice to know he can go beyond just ordering." You smiled at the woman’s response, and pointed to loaf you had been eying. "I'll have that, with a small coffee."

Bastila nodded, tapping on her computer to put the order in. "One small sweet loaf and a small coffee. That'll be three seventy-five." You handed over exact change and waited as the beautiful young woman filled your order.

 _So, Revan comes in here every morning... I never would have guessed_. Looking around, you noticed that most of the patrons were men. _Maybe this Bastila has something to do with it. She's certainly very pretty._ Biting your lower lip, you discreetly pulled your blouse with a small tug. You weren’t unhappy with your breast size, but one couldn't help feeling inadequate around buxom women. You figured most of the other women in your office had the same effect on people.

“Here you go!” You accepted your food and receipt, poured a bit of sugar and milk into your coffee at the self-serve counter, and left the bakery, tearing off a piece of the bread as you went. Leaning on one of the stone walls surrounding the different landscaping pieces, you wolfed down your food in what you knew must be a rather unladylike manner, but you didn't care.

 _I'd better get going_ , you thought as you finished your coffee. Dusting off the back of your jeans, you made your way from the station towards the gleaming buildings in the distance.

* * *

Qui-Gon wasn’t pleased when his concentration was broken by the sound of a knock on his door. Prompting the visitors to enter, he was met with the sight of Xanatos and Rael Averross, head of editing, side by side. Unsurprised, Qui-Gon watched as Rael made himself comfortable in one of his office’s chairs.

“What can I help you gentlemen with?”

"I apologize for interrupting you, sir. I-We came to see if you were still planning on attending the Senate Gala this evening. We have a car waiting outside."

Sighing, Qui-Gon leaned back in his seat. "I suppose I have to. I skipped out on the last two, and I doubt the investors were very happy."

Xanatos cleared his throat. "They weren't, sir. Especially when Rael knocked Senator Mothma into the bar and subsequently escaped through the window."

"Purely unintended," Rael said quickly. "Besides, that dress she was wearin' looked ten times better covered in strawberry mango daiquiri."

"See what I mean?" Xanatos exclaimed in exasperation. "You're the only one capable of reining in this man."

Qui-Gon looked from a sheepish Rael to a rather annoyed Xanatos, and sighed again. "Very well. I'll go." Standing, he pulled his jacket from the back of his chair and slung it over his shoulder. "I'll leave the rest of the day's work to you, Xanatos."

"Yes, sir."

“Let’s go, Averross.”

* * *

"You need to go early today?" Obi-Wan said from his desk. He had been staring intently at his computer screen when you had walked in to ask if you could leave earlier. When you had arrived that morning, the office had been in an uproar. Apparently, the CEO's upstairs had moved the publishing department's deadline up to the following Monday, six days sooner than they had anticipated. As such, the entire morning and afternoon had been dedicated to rushed corrections and massive printings. No one had used their lunch break until now, five in the evening. The entire floor was empty save for Obi-Wan, you, and a few diehards still tapping away in their respective stations.

"Yes. I would have asked earlier, when I arrived, but I got caught up in the rush. I figured now would be the best time," you said, rubbing your hands together. They were stained from ink; you had been helping Rose in printing for the greater part of the afternoon. “It’s for the interview with Senator Amidala.”

"Hmmm..." Obi-Wan leaned away from his computer, looking up at a hopeful you. Part of you wished he'd say no so you’d have an excuse to refuse to go to your interview, but you were very tired and really felt like a change of scenery. Rubbing the back of his head, Obi-Wan yawned. "Yeah, go ahead. You got a lot done today, and this is directly related to work, so you can leave early. Just don't tell anyone where you're going or they'll all want to go off on their own ‘interviews’."

Smiling, you nodded and bowed. "Thank you, sir. Tomorrow's my day off, so I'll see you on Sunday." Leaving the office, you picked up your briefcase and made for the elevator.

After reaching the bottom floor, you pulled out your phone and summoned an Uber taxi. The driver would be here in about ten minutes, so you went to go stand out on the huge drop-off/get-on area in front of the building compound. In the distance you could hear the roar of the freeway as it wound around the Coruscant Times buildings and onto the rest of the city. Luckily, most drivers knew their way around the city and you wouldn't have to be subjected to a terrifying freeway ride this evening. As the taxi pulled up, you went up to the door and slid inside.

"Uh, east side, third district. Thompson Hall. I'll give you the address as we get closer," you informed the youthful looking man, who merely nodded. As the car pulled away from the curb, you let out a tired yawn and settled back into the seat as you retrieved your briefcase. You pulled out a stack of papers, a pen, and a small notepad. Refreshing yourself on your interview preparations, your stomach began to sink ever so slightly at the thought of you approaching your very first professional, political interview. You still wish you had had more time to prepare yourself mentally, but you figured you had made the right decision to rise to the challenge.

After you had read over your notes ad nauseum, you neatly placed them back into your bag, and pulled out a compact. Popping it open, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your lips pressed into a thin line at the reflection: you looked tired, and your mascara had bled a bit below your eyes. Fishing out a Kleenex, your primped yourself to look at least semi-presentable for a professional interview, but still, you wish you had brought some spare makeup. Too late for any regrets, you shrugged the thought away and put the compact away, finding solace in the fact that you were at least still in jeans, heels, and button up. The spitting image of a casual professional.

After about 20 minutes, you started to recognize the buildings leading up to Thompson Hall; you had been there a handful of times during your university days to shadow your professors attending press conferences. You already had a fresh mental of image of what this press conference and interview would ensue: you would sit in a panel of journalists during Amidala’s campaign announcement, then most likely be invited to continue a private interview with her in one of the smaller conference rooms.

As the Uber pulled up closer and closer to the venue, you noticed quite a few number of cars parked on the sides of the streets. _It’s busy tonight._ People were spilling out of limousines and fancy cars, making their way to what you assumed was a gala of some kind in some area close-by, dressed in clothes that could easily cost three months of your rent. _Or maybe they’re going to an opera. They’re certainly dressed for one._

Finally, the driver announced he was going to drop you off, and you tore your eyes from the crowds, scrambling to make sure you had everything you needed. You felt the car stop and you slipped out of the car, ducking your head under the roof of the vehicle to make sure you thanked your driver. Closing the door, you briefly watched him drive off, and turned towards the venue. Only to be met with an overwhelming wave of dread.

The crowds of people you had seen not even thirty seconds ago were making their way up the steps of Thompson Hall, dressed to the nines. You swallowed rigidly, trying to convince yourself that there must just be another event happening at the same time as the senators’ press conference, and decided to make your way up the venue steps. You felt eyes on you; a black sheep in jeans amongst the throng of satin, silk, and Louboutin heels. Ignoring them, you reached the top of the 2 sets of enormous stairs, holding onto the hope that you must just be at the wrong entrance.

To your horror, you were greeted at the top of the stairs with a gold-framed sign. Written in obnoxiously elegant letters: _Senate Gala._

You felt your face pale of all colour, and your immediate instinct was to turn on your heels and leave; you would just reschedule the interview to another day. You didn’t belong here, nor were you at all presentable or prepared to be at such an event.

So, with your tail tucked between your legs, you spun 180 degrees to head back down the stairs, only to be met with your second onslaught of humiliation that evening when you slammed face-first into a powerful chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry there wasn't too much interaction with Qui in this chapter, but things may or may not start to uhhh.... h a p p e n next chapter.... See you then! 
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment with what you liked! What time was it when you read this? What do you like about corporate sith!Qui-Gon? Mysterious enough for you? Do you enjoy the work environment of the Republic Division? I think it's pretty cozy hehe. You can also let me know what you'd like to see happen in future chapters! I'll try to incorporate them! I'm always down to hear your ideas :) What do you think will happen next chapter? Do you have any guesses as to what Qui is up to?
> 
> Tons of love! Stay safe, and healthy!


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